


Moose, No Squirrel

by sammichgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, blowjob, could be dub con (it's consensual but under circumstances so warning), face fucking, hint of fingering, idea of anal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:04:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammichgirl/pseuds/sammichgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam makes a deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moose, No Squirrel

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Apparently I have nothing to do with the show or WB/CW beyond my imagination. Oh, to dream.
> 
> AN 1: Written for one of my bingo squares at spnpairingbingo at livejournal

“You got what you wanted – Dick's dead, saved the world. So I want one little prophet. Sorry, Moose. Wish I could help. You certainly got a lot on your plate right now. It looks like you are well and truly... on your own.”

With that, Crowley snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Sam looked around, and he was indeed alone. Dean was gone. The only thing that registered in his mind. Dean. Was. Gone. That familiar panic started to rise, his breathing came short, a frantic energy ran through him. He ran his hands through his hair, and began screaming Dean’s name. He couldn’t lose Dean again. He wouldn’t. This time, it had to be different.

Where was Dean? Hell? Heaven? Purgatory? Obliterated?

Sam’s blood pressure reached all new levels as realization began to sink in. There was absolutely no one left to turn to. Dean was gone. Bobby was gone. Kevin was gone. Cas, Cas was gone too. Even Frank.

Sam sank to his knees, and the crying started. Full on breakdown levels of fear and loss ripped through him. Where-where did he go from here? No leads. He had to find Dean. There had to be someone somewhere who knew something. Sam didn’t care the cost. They’d been down this road before, it was familiar. Where there was a will, there was a way. And Sam’s will was mighty. Getting Dean back, he knew he would be on the hook with Dean down for 1) letting him go wherever he’d gone, and 2) paying whatever cost it took to get him back. And Sam didn’t care. Wouldn’t care. Add it to his list of sins. He just needed Dean back.

After about twenty minutes, he heard a slight sigh from behind him and whirled around.

_Fucking Crowley._

“What do you want?” Sam bit out, edge of steel in his hoarse voice. He didn’t have the energy to deal with Crowley. He’d lost Dean. Again. The only person who meant anything to him. The only reason he kept on living as he had.

“Now Moose, is that any way to speak to a dear old friend? I’m here to help.” Crowley sauntered over and took in Sam’s completely ruffled self, _tsking_ in that annoying way he had.

Sam looked at Crowley, glancing up, fire in his eyes. “You’re not a friend. And you’d never help me, not without wanting something in return. So what is it? Is this a deal? What do I have to do, what am I going to get?”

Sam looked back down, trying to pull his tears in, gaining some control over his breathing. He’d had half a thought that Crowley had Dean, but no. He’d be gloating if he did. _Bastard_.

Crowley bent down, resting on his knees to face the giant of a man before him. “Now Sam. I’m really here to offer my help – if you don’t want my services, then I can just – “

“NO! Don’t go. I’m willing to hear you out. Can you help me find Dean? Get him back?” Sam hated that he sounded so damn broken and pathetic. But honestly, it didn’t matter.

Crowley rose to his feet, smirked, and turned towards the mess of black ooze all over the lab. Speaking slowly but clearly, he made sure his words carried weight and promise. “I might have an idea of where your brother has gone, Moose. And for the right price, I will gladly tell you everything I know. You can then formulate a plan to begin your suicidal rescue mission, as I know nothing will stop you from trying.”

Crowley turned back around, and Sam had moved to now lean against a counter. “You do know, Sam, that this all-or-nothing love you two have for each other is pretty twisted, right? Sometimes it’s better to just let go, move on. “ Crowley watched his words bounce right off of Sam. Nothing he said would make a difference. The Winchester brothers were completely wrapped up in each other and more than once he’d wondered how far that love went. He had his own fantasies about that, but now, now was the time to push Sam’s buttons. And maybe indulge a bit in one of his smaller fantasies.

Sam had heard most of what Crowley said. He’d developed a knack for letting most of the blowhole’s diatribe just run right off him, but he caught a few very important snippets – _idea, right price, tell you everything_ – and those words were all Sam needed to hear. He was sure that Crowley, King of Hell, knew a lot more than Sam did, and more than he’d ever let on.

“Yes.” Sam looked Crowley in the eye, no reservation there. “Yes. Name your price, I’ll do it. Am I selling my soul this time? Do I need to kill a small child or a puppy? What do you _want_ , Crowley? You’re right. Whatever the mission is, I’m getting Dean back.” Glancing down again, he quietly thought maybe he’d gone overboard, but he was feeling complete desperation at this point and every second counted. He hoped he’d not have to hurt an innocent to appease the filth in front of him. Wrestling with that guilt even before it was required was leaving him nauseated.  

Crowley was taken aback, clearly expecting a fight, at least a whining and bitching session from Gigantor. Dean’s disappearance with absolutely nothing to go on and that’s right…not a single soul to help him, Sam was clearly grasping at any shred of hope, he mused.

“Samuel. Dear boy. While I do appreciate your kind offerings at my altar at the further expense of your still and ever guilt ridden soul, nothing so drastic will be required.   What I want is fairly simple. Easy, even.”

Sam had a resigned look about him. He was still leaning against the lab counter, and if someone could turn in on themselves, it would be Sam. So much power, so much grace and strength there, and he almost cowered. Without Dean, he was nothing. He reluctantly made eye contact again with Crowley, and steadied himself for the cost of information on Dean.

“You, Sam.” Crowley smirked, waiting for what he now expected to be a fight.

A heated blush rose on Sam’s cheeks, and his breathing picked up again. He felt like all the wind had been knocked out of him. Surely, Crowley wasn’t serious? He counted to ten, holding Crowley’s gaze. There was no faltering, not a flicker of amusement, nothing there to belie that Sam was indeed what Crowley wanted.

Crowley watched the war in Sam’s head when Sam finally broke his stare, then idly glanced around the lab. He wished for a glass of Craig, and more comfortable surroundings. Although, he rather liked the thought of the giant puppy that was Sam Winchester on his knees, glass shards cutting into him while Crowley got off.

There was no sound. Sam’s breathing was shallow and quick, but not a word was said. When Crowley looked again at Sam, Sam had begun removing his pants, and Crowley could see the blush had traveled his body. And a gorgeous body it was, but not what Crowley was after. Taking advantage of Sam’s situation was one thing, but he needed to be able to let the boy have some dignity, in case future dealings were needed. The Winchesters were like bad pennies, and always turned up.

“Moose, put your pants back on.” Crowley gave a little sigh; it truly was remarkable what these boys would do for the other. That thought would have to wait for another day though.

Sam stopped in his tracks, confusion clear on his face. But he rose and began to pull his pants back on. Maybe Crowley had been kidding after all? And with that came the flood of horrible things he could think of and knew they couldn’t compare to Crowley’s imagination. “But you said you wanted – you wanted me.” He tried not to let any hope shine through in his response.

“Mmm. I did, and I do. But I didn’t sell my soul for an extra three inches below the waist for nothing.” Catching the stunned look on Sam’s face, Crowley chortled. “Really Sam? Never given a blowjob? Or received one? You know how it’s done. And it’s much more intimate than fucking. The best part is you’ll be looking at me the entire time, as I fuck your mouth, and grab your precious tresses, and you’ll damn well not bite me. You try to pull away, try to look away; you so much as let your teeth graze me and I call it all off. You swallow every delicious drop. Deal?”

Sam remembered Bobby telling them about Crowley, that he’d wanted to hit double digits and sold his soul in a demon deal. Which meant, Crowley was fucking big. Ten inches. Sam registered himself as a three on the Kinsey scale, so he’s not afraid or inexperienced in giving another man a blowjob. But this wasn’t just another man. This was the fucking King of Hell. And he wanted to break Sam’s spirit, humiliate him, because yes, having him hold eye contact the entire time of being used and abused was what would get Crowley off, he knew it.

Still, as far as things went, it could be a lot worse. Just a blowjob. On his best day, Sam could get a guy off in minutes. A few minutes in exchange for Dean, for information? Sam could do it. Sam _would_ do it.

Sam moved in front of Crowley, looked him in the eye, and dropped to his knees, spreading out so his face was directly in front of Crowley’s crotch. His hands found the way to Crowley’s pants, unbuckling, unzipping and pulling them and his boxers down. The thick and enormous cock bounced in front of his face, hitting him on the chin. Sam kept his eyes locked on Crowley, leaning forward to begin with soft, long licks along his shaft.

Crowley watched in earnest as Sam Winchester submitted to the King of Hell. He felt a delicious sense of wonder and awe suffuse his body. Sam Winchester. The boy who would be king, blowing the King. What Crowley wouldn’t give to stretch this moment out, but goddamn that boy’s _mouth_. It was perfect. Sweet heat and suction, then kitten licks alternating with his hands both massaging his balls and stroking the length that didn’t fit. He let Sam work him sloppy and wet, riding the pleasure crest. To his credit, Sam didn’t back down, didn’t pull away or fight at all. Took a little fun out of it, but that’s ok. Crowley still had the supreme satisfaction of seeing Sam on his knees, perfect compliance, and not once breaking his stare. He tangled his fingers into Sam’s hair and began thrusting his hips, rocking into Sam’s face. His cock pushed deeper and deeper, wondering if Sam had ever overcame his natural gag reflex. He pulled Sam’s head deeper onto his dick, feeling Sam’s throat open right up and his dick slide right in. He moaned, and then smiled wide as Sam’s eyes began tearing. Seeing those tears fall was heaven, and he felt himself right on the edge. He didn’t speak a word, but thrust faster and deeper. He felt something unexpected brush against his hole, and a light pressure, and then he was coming. He shot down Sam’s throat and delighted in seeing Sam swallow mouthful after mouthful, trying to keep up and not let any come spill. As he pulled slowly out, Sam licked him clean, and then swiped his pornographic tongue around his own lips, still keeping his gaze fixed on Crowley.

“Very good job, Moose. Not so bad was it? Although, I don’t remember saying you could penetrate me to get me off quicker.” Crowley frowned at that, as he put himself back together, zipping up.

Sam quickly responded, “You never said I couldn’t. I held up my end of the deal, Crowley. Now. Tell me about Dean, where he is, how do I find him, how do I get to him?” Sam was beyond feeling any humiliation for what he’d just done. It was just another dick. It didn’t matter in the long run.

Crowley gave a slow clap, and snorted. “Ah yes, the matter of Squirrel. Well, Moose. I have no knowledge of your brother. And truly, if I had any information to share, do you sincerely think I’d share it? You two are the bane of my existence. “

Sam felt rage, and a deep fury was working its way out. “You’re lying. You said you’d tell me everything you knew.”

“I said I _might_ tell you everything I know. Pays to listen closely, Moose. And I’m not lying. I can tell you he’s not in Hell, or I would know. I doubt he’s in Heaven, for various reasons. And no human soul has ever set foot in Purgatory, so where does that leave us? Somewhere here, on Earth? Perhaps you should get into that giant black deathtrap and set across the country to look for him.”

Before Sam could respond, Crowley was gone, again. Sam was frozen in place for several minutes before he registered what had just happened. The feeling of complete nausea washed over him again, and he vomited.

 

 

 

 


End file.
